Between the Scenes: The End
by cherrycoconutkisses
Summary: Takes place within the episode The End
1. Chapter 1

"Hey." Scully said.

Mulder looked up in surprise and gave her a half smile before letting his head drop back down between his shoulders.

"Hey," he replied.

"Any news?"

"No."

She shifted feet back and forth.

She sat down next to him. She played with her hands for a moment before reaching over and rubbing his shoulder.

She withdrew her hand back to her lap and sat against the hard cushion of the chair.

She could see Mulder winding his fingers together. She wanted to wrap her arms around him. Just hold him and hide him away from this. She folded her arms.

Nurses rushed past, doctors rushed past.

Phones rang; nurses answered. "Georgetown ER, how can I help you?" played in the back of her head again and again.

The windows had darkened she realized. Somehow she had missed the sunset.

She quizzed herself on all anatomical parts of the body… the brain, the heart, the kidney, lung, ear…. knee, throat….liver…. But she wasn't out of practice enough to make it at all challenging. She leaned onto her elbows.

She looked over at Mulder. He still hadn't moved. His back must be aching even more than hers was. She stroked his back gently. He looked up at her. He looked exhausted, aged. She wished she knew what to say. He took her hand in his own and sat back. He let out a breath slowly through his nose.

She turned her gaze back to the floor. She traced the broken pattern of the linoleum tiles with her eyes over and over again. Her mind began to drift and the cracks turned into roads and the spots turned into houses. She felt her eyelids begin to droop and she fought to keep them open.

A pair of brilliant white tennis shoes walked into her view. She looked up to find a man in green scrubs and hairy arms.

"Are you two here for Diana Fowley?" he asked. His voice was neutral. It made her heart beat faster.

"Yes." Mulder answered.

"Good news," the doctor said.

Mulder let out a breath.

"She's alright. She made it through the surgery."

Mulder smiled so hard his eyes crinkled. He looked so childlike with his grin she couldn't help smiling.

The doctor gave a transient smile. "We've got her in the ICU on life support. She's still struggling to get enough oxygen. But if you ask me, she's gotten through the roughest part."

Mulder nodded. "Can I see her?"

The doctor hesitated before nodding, "If it's just for a moment."

They moved down the hall and Scully hesitated. Mulder looked back at her as did the doctor. She opened her mouth to excuse herself, to say goodbye, but her feet moved her towards them without thinking. They continued wordlessly.

The walk was long through a maze of desks and doorways. She paid close attention to the exit signs.

The glass door opened and there was the feeling of fragility and sterility. There were soft hums from machines around the entire room. The nurses were silent. Each focused on a chart, a readout, a syringe.

There was Diana. She looked pale, almost doll-like with the contrast of her dark hair against the white of everything else. The doctor was saying something as they approached, but she couldn't hear it. She saw Mulder's expression as his eyes traveled slowly over Diana's form. He slowly took Diana's hand gently into his own. He reached up and brushed his fingers along her hair.

Her throat caught though she couldn't say why. She stepped slowly away. The doctor's speech continued unabated.

She left silently. She reached for her keys following the neon exit signs.

Once outside she took one steadying breath.


	2. Chapter 2

The keys clanked heavily onto the table. She pulled off her shoes with her toes and kicked them hard enough to bang against the cabinet with two satisfying thumps.

She threw her jacket across her bed as she walked to the bathroom. She stripped and stepped into the shower.

She turned up the heat of the water until steam stormed upwards from the shower head.

She clenched her teeth and lifted her chin into the spray of water.

Mulder's face crumpled in grief. Pain.

She should have guessed how deeply Mulder and Diana were connected when she saw them together conversing like syrupy old lovers.

She slammed the faucet off stepped into the fog of steam in her bathroom. It was hard to breathe through all the water.

She grabbed a towel, feeling the soft, tiny loops of fabric.

No one had ever looked at her that way. Never. Not even Daniel.

Maybe it was time to move on. Get away from this.

Gibson. The thought was iron in her chest. She couldn't get away. Not really. She couldn't find someone to look at her that way. Not with Gibson out there.

She looked around her bedroom contemplating the idea of sleep. Somewhere her tiredness had evaporated. Her stomach churned. She moved out into the kitchen and opened a window for fresh air. The night was cloudless and almost warm. It was perfect. She let out a breath and closed the window.

She picked up her keys again, grabbing her overcoat.

The air felt good against her skin.

When the Hoover building stood in front of her she realized she had been driving towards it the whole time.

She sighed. Where else was there to go? She glanced down at the car clock. 3:12 am. She pursed her lips as she clicked open her door.

The FBI was always lit as though it was the middle of the day. How much of her lifetime was spent here where everyone else in the world was peaceful?

It was almost completely deserted. The light felt uncanny. Around corners she could see the shadows and edges of the janitors working, hear the slopping of lazy mops.

How much longer was she going to be a part of this? The offices already seemed hostile, asking what she was still doing here. She and Mulder had disgraced themselves and there were consequences to be paid. She knew enough to know that the best intentions didn't really count in the end if the FBI wanted you out. And they had wanted them out from the beginning.

She walked slowly down the long maze of staircases down to the office wondering what she was going to do when she got there. Maybe look over Gibson's medical charts again…compare them to files she had asked for from brain specialists. Maybe just stare at the ceiling until she really went crazy.

She heard a soft thudding even before she reached the end of the hall from the elevator. She peered around the corner as she approached and saw that light was on. She pushed the door open further.

"What are you doing here?" she said.

Her partner startled.

"Sorry."

Mulder was spread back over his reclined chair his hands mid-position of flicking a pencil up into the ceiling.

"I could ask you the same question." He flicked the pencil up where it bounced back at his hand. He wagged his fingers in pain. "It's late."

_No kidding._

She walked in and dropped her keys onto her table. She looked up at the ceiling covered with little orange pencils peppering the white tiles like grass.

She turned around to look at him. She folded her arms and shrugged.

"An idle mind is the devil's playground," Mulder said dryly.

He was probably right about that.

"Well I think we're already halfway to hell."

He smirked. "I thought I smelled brimstone."

"What are you doing?"' she asked.

"I got tired of picking out my suit for tomorrow's execution. I mean meeting."

She nodded absently.

"How did this happen so quickly?" she asked into the stilled air.

He flicked the pencil hard enough that it stabbed into the ceiling with a sharp twang. It must have hit the metal below. "I don't know."

She looked down at her hands as silence settled between them.

Letting out a sigh she moved towards her table and sorted through their mail. She could tell just looking that there were no large envelopes containing scans. She looked through it anyway.

Her eyes caught on the case file open on her desk. She picked it up. Gibson's picture was paper clipped on the front. Her shoulders sagged.

"Agents."

They both turned. Skinner walked through the door giving them a look of surprise. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I think we were just trying to figure that out," Mulder said.

"I'm glad you're here. I need those case files on Gibson."

"What's going on?"Scully asked. She closed the file and handed it over.

"Due to the circumstances, there's a late meeting on trying to gain back control over this situation with Gibson." A heavy weight sunk in her stomach. The Moirai were already meeting to decide their fate.

"Hope you guys have plenty of coffee," Mulder said.

"Why were we not informed?" Scully asked.

"It's not exactly a meeting you'd be interested in," Skinner said.

"It's about getting rid of us," Mulder said. He said it almost calmly. Scully looked at him in surprise. This was usually when Mulder yelling and started spewing impertinent remarks.

Skinner nodded. "I'm trying to do damage control but as you can probably guess, it's getting messy," he paused as he looked at his watch, "I've got to get back to right now. I'll call you both later." He left.

She turned to Mulder. "You sound like you've already given up."

He turned his back to her, walking back to his desk. He slumped back into his chair. "You said it yourself. We're about to be sacrificed, slaughtered, thrown out."

"But what about Gibson? How are we going to find him? We can't just let this go," she realized she was almost yelling.

"What do we do Scully? We're pinned down. They've disappeared and sent the junkyard dogs after us."

She fought to come up with a response as she stared at him. But every thought was countered by the uselessness of the action.

She looked down in shame and turned to her desk. She heard Mulder get out of his chair and walk towards her.

She turned to look up at him. "What about Gibson. He's just a boy." She swallowed hard against the dread building in her chest. "What if they're doing tests? Like they did on me? What if they kill him? What if he's already dead?"

Her mouth shut. Her jaw muscles tightened as she looked away.

Mulder opened his mouth to answer but then closed it. He pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her. She resisted at first but softened into his embrace.

She could feel his exhale.

"We will find him," he said.

She said a silent prayer that Gibson could hold on until then.

They pulled apart. Her arm dropped down and she moved back only to find the desk against her. Mulder didn't move away.

She covered her surprise with a casual glance up at him.

He was looking at his shoes. "You want to come over to my place for a while?" His eyes moved up to hers.

His frankness left her without a response. She nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride was quiet. She sat staring up at the passing lamplights. Her lashes slowly sinking over her eyes as she blinked.

She looked up into the starlit sky. How infinite it felt looking up into it. Their lives were so small. Their problems burned like the sun. Yet they were so insignificant. So small, like the stars.

Hopefully, Gibson was up there, still glowing.

Her and Mulder were up there too. Only they were fixed in their location, unable to get anywhere. How could you move a star?

They were stopped. Mulder was already out of the car. She hurried to remove her seatbelt and get out.

Mulder was standing staring up at the stars. She wondered if his thought were near where hers were.

His gaze descended onto hers. She moved towards his apartment and his hand found his way gently to her back.

His apartment was musky. A familiar musky.

She hung her overcoat and kicked off her shoes. She felt a moment of déjà vu but this time she let her shoes fall quietly to the floor. Mulder moved from behind her to the kitchen.

"Hungry, thirsty?" he asked.

She pulled off her jacket and hung in on the coat hanger.

"Thirsty," she said.

She sat down onto the couch and put her feet up on the table. She could hear the running water and Mulder's approaching footsteps. She leaned forward and began to rub her feet. They didn't hurt. But what else would she do at four o' clock in the morning? Mulder walked in and handed her a glass of water.

"Sure you're not hungry?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

He shook his head as he walked around the table and sat down next to her. He sipped at his own glass of water. He put the glass on the table and sat back against the cushions. Scully drank her water and continued rubbing her feet. What now? Her mind flashed to a Disney movie. She didn't know which one. The two vultures echoing "I don't know. What do you want to do?" to each other flashed in her head and her lips twisted into a smile. She turned her head so Mulder wouldn't see her strange amusement.

She laid back into the couch, her arm touching his. She hadn't realized he was so close. Mulder slid down the cushion until he was almost level with her. He lifted his feet up onto the table next to hers and peeled his shoes off, letting them drop onto the floor.

A tired silence pervaded and neither said anything to break it. Mulder lightly reached for her hand and she took it. She let her head lay against Mulder's shoulder and for long moments they just breathed together. He rubbed her fingers lightly.

Her thoughts returned to Diana and she pushed them away. Whatever Mulder's choices, nothing would change this moment between them. Their friendship wasn't going to change overnight. She was happy for him. He deserved happiness.

Their friendship was going to change; it was inevitable. But she wasn't going to push. Push him away. He had never limited her. If she wanted to leave he wouldn't stop her. If she wanted a life away from chasing through this darkness. They both needed to get away from this eventually. And if Diana was his ticket out of this-towards something more-how could she resent it?

She could see Mulder as a father. Chasing after his kids. Teasing them. Raising them. She could see a child with the same unruly brown hair and lopsided smile in an alien head t-shirt.

She chuckled even as her consciousness was fading. Mulder muttered a 'hmph?' in response but she shook her head.

The phone rang startling them both. Mulder let out a sigh and leaned his head back rubbing his face. At this hour there would only be one person calling. And it wasn't going to be good news.

She stepped over Mulder's legs and slunk into the chair behind the desk. She took a breath and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Scully?" It was Skinner.

"Yes sir."

She could hear him sigh at the other end. Was this not the night of sighing? She listened as Skinner explained the situation over there. Every sentence seemed to hollow her out. Deeper and deeper it went into her soul until she was paper thin. Filleted. Mulder had said something about her being skinned. That had been so long ago. Back when they faced the same threat of shutting down. They had failed then. And they were failing now.

She gazed again back at Mulder. His eyes had closed but she could tell he was listening.

There was still fire in Skinner's voice and it touched her. He would fight for them.

"Right. Well, I'll be here if you need to reach me."

"I've got to get back in there."

She hung up and sat back into the chair.

"Any news on Diana?" She looked back at him. His eyes were still shut.

"They have her on maximum pressers but she's barely maintaining her pressure." She pushed back the images of Diana on the bed; Mulder's blazing eyes.

"What did Skinner have to say?"

"There are talks going on right now about reassignment."

"For who?"

"For both of us." They would be split up. Separated. "These talks included instructions from the Justice Department to close down the X-Files."

"This was all strategized – every move. I just couldn't see it. It was all part of a plan."

She could see it too. Feel the defeat. "Mulder, whatever you may believe, this time they may have won."

She leaned back into the chair. She felt heavy as though the hollowness in her chest left by Skinner's report was filled with lead. There was nothing to be done now. The x-files were gone. Their partnership was over. In all probability, she wouldn't see Mulder again. Not really. They would drift apart, their drive gone now that the x-files no longer united them. Like last time. She felt like sobbing. She could feel the hot tears trying to burst out, but she felt so tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of hoping. For all that was given, all that was sacrificed, there was nothing left. She closed her eyes.

"Dana."

She turned looking through her heavy lashes to see Mulder's hazel eyes gazing at her. He reached out his hand. Slowly, she took it. He pulled her out of the chair as he sat up. She sat down again next to him. She laid her head against his shoulder wearily. Her head felt so heavy she wondered how his shoulder could support it. She brought her feet up onto the couch and leaned her knees against his leg.

He moved his arm over her shoulders. She repositioned her head against his chest as he sunk down into the cushions. His fingers lay lightly against her hip. There was enough skin exposed that she felt his fingertip. His pinky she imagined. It felt intimate, but she reminded herself that this was a farewell. There would be no more.

She would feel his fingertips against her hip and there would be no more.

She felt so tired. She felt Mulder's warm fingers wrap around her hand.

"Scully." His voice was rough.

"Mhmm."

"At the hospital today…Thank you."

"Mmm."

She could feel him inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale…. He sunk further down the cushion and she shifted again until she was comfortable. His hand around her lifted and then settled back down.

It was back onto her hip. His fingertips. The last sensation she would have from him.

It was over. But they were here.

The warm darkness enshrouded them. A different darkness. A cocoon where they were still together. Still with hope. Sleep came over her and she saw warm smiles and laughter. It was Mulder's she realized. She never wanted to wake up she knew even as she slept. With consciousness came responsibility. Here it was only rest, hope and Mulder.

The phone rang.

They both jumped. What time was it?

The phone rang again.

She raised herself off of Mulder and yawned. She stumbled against the table. She lost balance and sat on it.

It rang again.

She stood up and pressed a hand against her head. Had they really been asleep? Why was the phone ringing?

It rang again.

She let out a sullen moan and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Is this Agent Mulder?"

"Yes." She didn't care she was lying. Who calls this late at night? She looked out the window. It was still late wasn't it? It was still dark.

She pushed her hair out of her face and sat into the chair. Mulder had lain back again into the couch. She looked at him jealously as she leaned her head against the top of the chair.

"This is the maintenance manager of the J. Edgar Hoover building."

"Okay." She thought of hanging up the phone.

"There's been an accident in your office."

She yawned again. She forced it down trying to speak. "What?"

"There's been a fire in your office."

She raised her head. A fire? In their office? "What?"

"You should come down and see. The fire suppression system didn't work. I don't know it ever really has. The fire burned pretty much everything."

She stood up. "Wait. How did it—? Nothing left? How did this happen?"

Mulder perked up and looked at her in concern.

"You can come down and see if you'd like. Though there isn't much to see. Or me to really do from here." He hung up with a click.

She stood there frozen. Mulder stood up and moved to her. "What happened?"

She searched for words. "Fire. In our office."

Mulder walked into the kitchen. She could hear the jingle of car keys. She moved to the door and grabbed her overcoat. Her fingers tingled though the rest of her felt numb.

Mulder's jaw was clenched and she could almost feel the crackling tentacles of his anger. She sat uselessly against the car seat in disbelief. Hadn't they just been in the office? Just minutes ago?


	4. Chapter 4

She watched him disappear down the stairs and silently followed after him.

The devastation that awaited her was worse than she had imagined, worse than she could process.

Everything was gone, everything ashes.

Her eyes pulled up to look at her partner. She felt her heart tear; a razor carved in her chest. Mulder stood there in shock.

She felt her knees weaken and she wanted to sink to her knees. Curl up and wither as the rest of her world had.

She walked closer to him, but he didn't seem to see her. She held him. She leaned into his shoulder. She could feel his heart beat. It seemed it was the only part of him that hadn't turned to stone.

Mulder pushed past her towards the cabinet that was still smoking.

She stood still, not even breathing, her lips open and frozen. What? She pushed her mind to process.

She flinched as he reached inside to pull out the crumbling paper. He looked through the meager portions that were left. She let out a pained exhale.

"Mulder."

He paid no heed. He placed the papers delicately on the desk next to him and reached back into the cabinet.

She walked up to him a placed a hand on his arm.

"They're gone Mulder. Please, don't do this."

He pulled his arm fiercely out of her grasp and looked at her with eyes of fire. She let go silently.

He turned back to his work. She stood back and watched as the pile grew. She thought of walking out, leaving Mulder to grieve in his own way, but something kept her standing there.

Licking her dry lips she looked at the papers he pulled out. Closing her eyes, she said a small prayer for their behalf. She opened her eyes and moved quietly to the pile. She picked up the first piece. It was an incomplete title page. The page under it was the report though it was hard to tell which one. The next pieces had more writing on it. She pulled it closer. The ink writing was camouflaged by the dark ashes, but she knew it could be analyzed and read by the FBI equipment.

It wasn't enough though. What was left had nearly no value. Except to Mulder. She watched his eyes scan each precious page and place it cautiously into a neat pile.

She let out a sigh. She moved to the cabinet next to his and opened it. She choked as the smoke flew out. Waving it out of the way she opened the drawer more fully and reached in.

Quickly they became covered in sweat and filth. Scully wiped her brow with her sleeve. She looked down at it and saw it was a dirty as her hands. She smiled wryly. It was as if they were reaching into the depths of hell to save these poor tattered pieces of the doomed x-files.

She moved the sizable pile of papers and gently laid them onto the ground. Kneeling next to them she began putting each page into a separate bag. She put each bag into a plastic crate next to her. The new plastic looked silly almost fake against the desiccated carpet.

She coughed again. The soot tasted foul in her mouth and she pulled her shirt up to wipe it out of her mouth.

Mulder sat down next to her and began bagging the pile he had managed to recover. Overall, there wasn't much. Maybe one in twenty—thirty maybe—cases had survived. One of the drawers in the cabinet, the one with Samantha's file she knew had been in it, had been completely destroyed. There was only dust in that one. And what was left of the small percentage had been so mutilated that at best they would recover a third of what remained.

Her heart felt heavy thinking about it. What they had was better than nothing. And wasn't that always where they were? Never enough, but enough to continue? Enough to keep up the pursuit of the truth.

Maybe there was hope after all.

She looked down at the file in her hand. It was Mulder's writing she could tell. In his words she could tell he was excited. The writing was more spaced, hurried as if he was trying to keep up with his racing mind. "undeniable evidence of Neanderthal behavior. The fierceness of her movements, the way she sensed the air around her…"

She smiled. This must be from the Jersey Devil case. Mulder had been so enthralled, so taken with his encounter with the wild woman, so entranced by the possibility of some wild beast woman living out there in the woods. She laughed.

Mulder looked up at her in curious bafflement, "What?"

She met his eyes, still grinning, "Nothing." She put the piece into a bag. "It's just I was remembering you when you pursuing that beast woman in Jersey. I had to pull you out of the drunk tank remember?"

Mulder nodded.

"I mean you looked as feral as the beast woman." She laughed, feeling slightly slap happy. "But in an endearing way."

She could see his eyes sparkle as he let out a chuckle.

"Even when she attacked you, you were _ecstatic_." She smiled. "When we were waiting for the ambulance all you kept saying 'she was so beautiful!' again and again."

He let out a heartfelt chuckle and she laughed with him.

"But she _was_ beautiful Scully. Remember? She was so ferocious so powerful."

Scully just laughed harder and he couldn't help but laugh harder as well. Tears sprung up in Scully's eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Mulder watched her. She let out an exhale, trying to control her amusement. He reached for her face and wiped the moistness still clinging to her lower lashes with his thumb.

Her laughter died down.

She turned her attention to the papers still in her hand. She could feel Mulder's eyes still on her and she blushed. She must seem so crazy right now. She placed the papers in their bags.

"You think we'll ever get the x-files back?" she asked, mostly to stop him from staring at her.

"Yes, I do." He looked around the office. "No one can really get rid of us."

She smiled at the thought. She picked up the rest of the papers and put them in bags. "I hope you're right." She inhaled the air, clearer since the dust had settled. She looked at the burned poster. All the melted and charred mementos of their work. It carried the mask of finality, an ending blow. But it was just a mask. They had found the real truth in their progress of salvaging what they had. There was always a place to start again.

She pushed herself up into a standing position and immediately regretted the action. Her head swam and she lost balance. She felt Mulder's hands on her elbows as he stood up. Then he wavered and she caught his arms. She laughed.

"Head rush," Mulder said.

"I don't even want to know what time it is."

"Let's go." Mulder picked up the crate and Scully picked up the other. It was heavy but she mourned at how much heavier it could have been.

She followed Mulder out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

When he got out of the shower Scully was sound asleep. She looked very small in his borrowed t-shirt and sweat pants. It was almost hard to believe that the woman so full of passion, so full of loyalty and stubbornness fit so snugly in the corner of the couch.

He brushed a wet strand of hair out of her face. Her face looked ephemeral in the slanted light of the fish tank.

"Scully."

She moaned in response.

"Scoot over."

Her blue eyes blinked open and she looked up at him. Then she glared. "Get your own couch."

"This _is_ my couch."

She sat up with her face in a pout that made him chuckle. She looked at him, confused at his mirth.

"Why again didn't we go to my place?"

"I live closer." He sat down at the end of the couch and laid back into the arm rest. Scully turned so she was facing him.

"No you don't. We had to _pass_ my place to get to yours."

He pushed his legs so they were under hers. He caught her as she tilted over. He slowly pulled her up onto his chest.

"Distances get fuzzy when I'm exhausted."

She shot him a skeptical look. She laid her elbow on top of his chest. She looked at him confused and surprised. "Is this really how we're going to sleep?"

He shrugged and shifted so his body was lengthened out over the couch. "Unless you want the floor."

She laid her head down to his chest and stretched her body out mumbling about "gentlemen-like courtesy."

He pulled the blanket from the top of the couch onto their bodies.

"Good night," he said, but Scully was already asleep again.

He traced his fingers over her hairline and pushed her hair away from her face. A gentle smiled played on his lips as he went to sleep.


End file.
